


Trick or Treat

by ohofcourse



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Enemies to Lovers, Halloween, M/M, hisoka is basically howl, illumi is a necromancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohofcourse/pseuds/ohofcourse
Summary: “There’s a necromancer in this town. We’re made up mostly of a cemetery. He’s very territorial. I don’t know if you plan to stay, but you should be careful of him.”“A necromancer?” Gon asked Hisoka, tugging on his sleeve. Hisoka had a smile on his face, and it was growing wider by the second.“Oh, then we’ll absolutely stay. Thank you for telling us, this has been lovely.” Hisoka pulled a rose from his coat sleeve, de-thorned and glistening slightly with morning dew--incredible, considering it was halfway through the afternoon.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	Trick or Treat

Coming just over the horizon in a flash of red was an old cigarette box-shaped car, tottering over the pavement like something elderly. It was so cheery in contrast to the rest of the street that it gave the old lady arranging miniature pumpkins on her front yard a bit of whiplash. 

“Hello!” A man called. He had a lovely voice, like velvet, and though his hair was mostly hidden by a dark green chapeau, the old lady could see feathery tufts of purple and orange coming out the sides. 

_ Halloween colors,  _ she thought, mystified. 

The car rolled to a stop in front of her, and the man fully stuck his head out the window. It became clear that in the passenger seat, there was a young boy, no older than thirteen, in an adorable green outfit and a too-big purple cloak draped over his shoulders and that looked like it belonged to his older companion. 

A strange pair. 

“Hello,” the old lady said. 

“My name is Hisoka Morrow. I’m a magician.” He proudly flourished a set of cards with a clever twist of his hand. The little boy peered out from under the purple cloak and gave the old lady a fiercely bright grin. 

“And my name is Gon! Gon Freecs.” 

“Nice to meet you both, Mr. Morrow and Mr. Freecs.” 

“Gon, for the last time,  protégés don’t introduce themselves.  _ I'll  _ introduce you.” The man, Hisoka, seemed exasperated, like this was something they had gone over many times. It wasn’t surprising that the boy, Gon, was Hisoka’s protege. They looked nothing alike--couldn’t be related by blood.

“But we’re in a car,” Gon pointed out, looking confused. Both of Hisoka’s lovely arched eyebrows shot up in utter incredulity. 

“Gon, what on  _ earth  _ does that have to do with anything? You--hold on, we’re being rude. It’s lovely to meet you.” 

“And you, though I should warn you,” the old lady said, leaning in close to the car window. Gon and Hisoka leaned in as well, until two youngish noses were nearly touching an old one. 

“There’s a necromancer in this town. We’re made up mostly of a cemetery. He’s very territorial. I don’t know if you plan to stay, but you should be careful of him.” 

“A necromancer?” Gon asked Hisoka, tugging on his sleeve. Hisoka had a smile on his face, and it was growing wider by the second. 

“Oh, then we’ll absolutely stay. Thank you for telling us, this has been lovely.” Hisoka pulled a rose from his coat sleeve, de-thorned and glistening slightly with morning dew--incredible, considering it was halfway through the afternoon. 

“Oh! Thank you! But please do be careful!” The old lady called as the car gunned to life and started down the road. It bounced over a loose bit of gravel and the old lady heard both the man and the boy shriek with laughter. 

A dove flew out the car window, fluttering pearly white wings, looking far too bright against the darkening gray sky. 

“What a handsome man,” the woman said to herself, hands on her hips. 

* * *

“KILLUA!” 

“ _ WHAT?”  _

“GET DOWN HERE!” Illumi could hear, all the way from the very top floor of the townhouse, Killua’s reluctant footsteps. He pattered down the first flight of stairs, stopped, kicked at the crown molding, and then kept going, down, down, down into the basement. 

“ _ What?”  _ Asked a fluffy white head of hair. 

“A magician just came into town,” Illumi said, not looking at his younger brother. 

Killua sighed. 

“Practice your runes and send him a message, now please.” 

“You’re such a pain,” Killua grumbled, pulling a stool out from under a nearby table--upon which a poorly embalmed body was lying--and plopping down onto it. 

Illumi watched him through a curtain of black hair. 

“I can’t do it if you’re watching me,” Killua added. Illumi looked away, returning his attention to the little leather book he had held open with splayed fingers. In the corner of his eye, however, he could see the little glow of blue as Killua inscribed a message of fire into thin air. 

“Okay, I sent it to him. There were two, though, two magicians.” 

“No,” Illumi said chidingly. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Killua snapped, mocking his tone. Older and younger brother glared at each other for a moment. 

“Pay attention, there are not two magicians.” 

“There are! I can feel two magical presences in town that weren’t here this morning!” 

“One’s an apprentice,” Illumi corrected sharply. Killua’s eyes rolled back so violently that it seemed they might detach from their sockets and keep on spinning. 

“Oh,  _ come on,  _ that’s still a magician!” 

“He’s very young, your age,” Illumi said, holding out a hand for silence. “Doesn’t know as much as you. Not as well trained. But, he’s promising.” Killua poked at one of Illumi’s bodies. 

“This one looks rotten.” 

“You think?” 

“Smells funny.” 

“I’ll toss him, then.” With a clench of the fingers on his left hand, the body collapsed in on itself like a lawn chair, until there was nothing left of it, funny smell or otherwise. 

“Can I go now?” 

“Go where?” 

“Just upstairs,” Killua said exasperatedly. Illumi rocked back and forth on his heels and then sighed. 

“Yes, fine, go.” 

Killua scrambled up the stairs two at a time.

* * *

Hisoka and Gon found a decent empty lot just on the outskirts of town. 

“This is a good spot, you know why?”

“Why, Master Morrow?” Gon asked, ever the accommodator. 

“These,” Hisoka said, bending down and plucking a small purple flower out of the ground. They grew in multitudes on the lot, blooming despite the weather. 

“They’re wild violets,” Hisoka said, sticking the flower behind Gon’s ear. “What do you know about wild violets?” 

“They’re edible,” Gon said, “and you can crush the petals into a balm and it’ll soothe your skin.” 

“One more thing,” Hisoka chided. 

“They’re pretty?” 

“And  _ that’s  _ why you’re my protege!” Hisoka poked Gon in the chest. “Okay, now leave me alone, I’m setting up the house.” 

Gon meandered towards the back of the lot, where the wild flowers and the tall grass turned into an old, gnarled wood, a kind of place that would be illustrated in a children’s fairytale book. 

Hisoka, meanwhile, trotted back to the car and pulled a small briefcase out of the trunk. Also in the trunk was a folded up bicycle--Hisoka had told Gon to make their tandem bicycle portable, for the purpose of practice, and in quite Gon fashion, he had cast a very simple folding spell, which Hisoka had taught him at the very beginning of his apprenticeship. 

_ Well, if you don’t do laundry, and I  _ **_definitely_ ** _ don’t do laundry, then we’re going to have to use magic to fix that.  _

_ My aunt says that’s lazy…  _

_ Your aunt is wrong and I am right. Now, let me teach you a spell that will fold a shirt.  _

Hisoka took the briefcase, set it in the center of the lot, and then gingerly flicked the clasp and opened it. 

Sometimes, things jostled in transit. 

Last time they had moved, the top floor had been perpendicular to the ground, and it had taken all day for Gon to fix it. 

This time, however, they had gotten lucky. 

From the bottom of the briefcase popped out a door--dark green with a brass handle and a knocker in the shape of a fox. From the top of the door came a shingled eave, and then a wrought-iron balcony, and then more house, and more, and more, until four stories of townhouse had shot up in the middle of the lot, groaning and settling on the earth like a grandmother. The flowers hanging off the top balcony looked a little wilted, but overall, Hisoka counted it as a stunning success. 

“Woah! This was the best move yet!” Gon called, dragging a large water-soaked branch behind him.

“The universe must want us here,” Hisoka said, thinking of a necromancer crumpling under his foot like a wild violet. 

“You’re doing that thing again,” Gon said dubiously. 

“What thing?” 

“Your weird smiling thing. You’re thinking about something weird, I bet.” 

“Proteges should only speak when spoken to,” Hisoka said primly, pulling the hat off his head and wrenching their front door open. 

The foyer to their little townhouse was dominated by a potion-stained circular rug and a parlor table loaded with various keys and crystals and a genuine Faberge egg that Hisoka had won in a bet. 

“Look at that! The pictures even stayed up!” Hisoka crowed.

Gon reached up and straightened a framed photo of him and Hisoka struggling to hold a very large fish together on Gon’s home island. 

Hisoka had been terrible at fishing. 

_ This is boring.  _

_ You have to be patient.  _

_ Don’t give me advice, you’re my protege.  _

_ Sorry.  _

_ Are there sharks here? Can we catch sharks?  _

_ I think that’s still fishing.  _

_ Damn. _

Besides some shifted furniture, and a smear of ash on the living room carpet--Hisoka had forgotten to clean out the fireplace before packing the house up--everything looked to be in excellent condition. 

Gon made a beeline for the pink tufted sofa, rearranging the throw pillows onto one end so he could curl up on the other. Most of Hisoka’s odds and ends: magical trinkets he had picked up, the odd spellbook, various hats, miniature porcelain animal figurines. These had all been, for the most part, glued down with magic. 

The same went for the plates and bowls and cups in the kitchen, the kitchen which Hisoka had turned midnight blue last year on a whim. Copper pots and pans, never used, hung from a rack in the ceiling. The kitchen island was dominated with overgrown mint and basil plants, nearly obscuring the stone countertops, chipped at the corners from years of careless collisions. 

“Do we have food?” Gon asked, kicking his shoes off. Hisoka pushed himself up onto the countertop, legs swinging idly. He was getting the sudden urge to redo the kitchen backsplash, and maybe retile the floors. The black and white checkerboard pattern was starting to dizzy him. 

“Hisoka?” Gon asked again, standing up on the couch to see his mentor properly. 

“Hm?” 

“I asked if we had food in the kitchen." 

“I’m not your mother,” Hisoka said, though he opened the cupboards all the same, sighing in dismay at their emptiness. 

“Can we go get food?” Gon asked

“Yeah, okay.” 

* * *

To call the place a city was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a glorified town, nestled between two dark green hills that apparently flowered into pinks and reds and oranges in the spring. 

The town had four decent restaurants, but one was closed for the owner’s daughter’s wedding, and the other two were far, and Gon was still struggling with learning the spell that would unfold their tandem bike. 

Hisoka was a notoriously hands-off mentor. 

So, they went to the last option left, a very small restaurant that had two wooden tables inside and three wrought iron tables outside on the sidewalk, overlooking a particularly lovely corner of the cemetery. The old lady hadn’t been exaggerating, most of the town was enveloped by it--a good place for a necromancer to be. 

Gon and Hisoka were fawned over by the female staff:  _ I didn’t know magicians could be so handsome! And what a sweet boy your apprentice is! _

By the time they made it back to the townhouse, it was late in the evening, and Gon looked to be losing steam, eyes half-lidded, footsteps dragging.

“Ah, we’ve received a rune,” Hisoka said lightly. A crackle of blue light appeared in the living room, multiplying like bacteria until it was a tangle of symbols and shapes. 

“Go on, read it to me,” Hisoka said, plopping down on their sofa and tenting his hands over his stomach. 

“Um,” Gon began. Hisoka cracked open an eye and glanced over. 

“Something, something,  _ Illoomy Zoldike?  _ I don’t know what that means. And then, something, something, magician, which I think is you, Hisoka, and then All Hallow’s Eve, which is Halloween.” 

Hisoka stood up and flicked Gon in the forehead. 

“Good magicians practice their runes.” 

“I’m  _ trying _ !” 

“From the estate of Illumi Zoldyck,” Hisoka read boredly, “The visiting magician and his apprentice are requested to leave the town. Rival magicians won’t be tolerated on All Hallow’s Eve.” 

“That’s rude,” Gon sniffed. 

“He didn’t even sign it, what a prick,” Hisoka agreed. 

“Do we leave?” 

“Absolutely not. He’s a necromancer, Gon. Do you know what that means?” 

“Dead people,” Gon said with a shudder. 

“Power,” Hisoka corrected. 

“So, we’re staying?” 

“More than that, we’re going to pay him a visit.” Hisoka glanced at himself in the mirror, tugging at a strand of his bangs. 

“Should I change my hair color?” 

“I like your hair,” Gon said. Hisoka’s nose scrunched. 

“Well, that isn’t comforting at all,” he said. 

“Your hair looks very nice, Master Morrow.” 

“I think I’ll go blonde.” 

Hisoka ushered Gon into the water closet just off the hallway entrance. An old antique mirror, burnished gold, was propped up on an old porcelain sink. Hisoka had put up wallpaper in here many years ago, a light blue toile, but it was peeling in places. 

Hisoka set Gon in front of him, steering him there by the shoulders. 

“Watch,” he said, smiling at his reflection in the mirror. 

He kissed both of his palms, clapped them together, and then ran both hands through his hair. As his fingers slid through his purple locks, a bright, gleaming blonde was left behind, the color of wheat on a hot August day. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Gon said. 

“Nice, huh?” Hisoka replied, fluffing the top of his feathery hair. It was also slightly longer, coming down the back of his neck like a mullet, with the front pieces framing his face and stopping at the high of his cheeks. 

“Can I change my hair?” 

“No, you have a nice palette, already,” Hisoka said briskly, “let’s go.” 

Gon gave himself one last look in the mirror, a hand coming up to pat the spikes of his hair. Then, with a brave little smile, he left the bathroom and followed Hisoka out the front door. 

* * *

The Zoldyck Estate was a very tall townhouse with a black facade and a row of well-maintained hedges which protected a bursting rose garden. It was laughably at odds with Hisoka and Gon’s teetering multi-colored house, overrun now with wild violets thanks to a misdirected enhancement spell from Gon. 

Hisoka went first, opening the rusting metal gate, nostrils flaring at the scent of woodsmoke and magic. Gon, with his cloak pulled over his spiky hair, stuck close to Hisoka’s side. Three of his steps were equivalent to one of Hisoka’s.

Hisoka had dressed up to meet the necromancer. His usual pink jacket was replaced with a long red checkered coat that reached his ankles. Underneath, he had on a white blouse that split down the middle to his sternum, revealing dozens of layered--and tangled--necklaces: rubies and sapphires and emeralds, clanging together like keys on a ring. His shoes were a new pair of green snakeskin mules, with a short two-inch heel that only exacerbated his and Gon’s height difference. 

In other words, Hisoka was dressed for battle. 

And quite right, too, because only a few seconds after entering the front garden, there was a large, aggressive rustling sound from deeper into the property. 

A massive black dog with an exposed ribcage, organs jumbling inside like a sweater in al bicycle basket, lunged out from behind the furthest row of hedges. 

Gon jumped and then drew his hand into his cloak, no doubt withdrawing one of his talismans. Faintly, Hisoak felt a sear of pride. Gon didn’t even look afraid. 

The dog, however, was too quick. It lunged for Hisoka first, the larger of the targets. Calmly, Hisoka removed the white glove on his left hand, and the dog froze in mid-air as Hisoka’s fingertips touched it delicately in the chest. 

For a moment, the dog was suspended, mouth open in a frozen snarl, eyes fearsome and glowing purple, and then, like the popping of a bathtub plug, something in the air was released. A soft sigh filled the garden, and the dog’s reanimated corpse dissolved into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

“ _ Wow,”  _ Gon murmured, nose tipped to the evening sky. A straggling butterfly danced between the magician and his apprentice, before it fluttered upward until it disappeared into swaths of dark blue sky. 

“I’ll teach you how to do that tomorrow,” Hisoka promised, slipping his glove back on his hand and stepping forward. 

“Don’t step on the stones,” Hisoka added, carefully tiptoeing on the moss. 

“Why?” 

“Go on, try it,” Hisoka said, eyes gleaming. Gon gingerly pressed his foot on one of the many large cobblestones that curled around the garden. 

From underneath it, a mottled gray hand surged up out of the dirt. 

Gon made a face. 

“This guy is very creepy.” 

“Mhm,” Hisoka said, breathing in deeply through his nose. 

* * *

Hisoka knocked twice on the door with the tip of his wingtip shoe. There were footsteps, small and light, and then the door was cracking open to reveal white hair half-obscured by a cloak, and lovely blue eyes. 

“Hello?” He asked warily, voice low. 

“Hi.” Hisoka said, extending a hand. 

“You weren’t invited here.” 

“Hisoka Morrow,” Hisoka said, undeterred, “and this is my protege, Gon.” The blue-eyed child’s gaze drifted to Gon and his face lit up with vague interest. 

“Hello.” 

Gon knocked the hood of his cloak back and shoved his hand through the small gap in the heavy black oak door. He shook the other child’s hand enthusiastically. 

“It’s very nice to meet you! You’re an apprentice, aren’t you?” 

“For my brother.” It came out dull and reluctant. 

“What’s your name?” Gon asked. Hisoka hung back a step or two, picking at his cuticles. 

“Killua.” 

“Can we come in, Killua? Hisoka wants to meet your brother, I think.” Killua glanced over his shoulder, looking apprehensive, but then, with a little shake of his head, he opened the door fully and snapped his fingers, illuminating the foyer in dark blue light. 

“You’re good at magic,” Gon whispered. Killua allowed himself a brief, white smile. 

“I know.” 

Killua led them down a tight, dark stairwell that looked like it should have creaked with each step, but didn’t. 

Hisoka had always expected a necromancer’s lair to smell of corpses and cleaning solution--a morgue, essentially--but the scent that wafted from the stairs as they descended down was something Hisoka could only describe as fiercely overpowering menthol. 

“Killua--” A flat, smooth voice began irritably. “Where on earth have you--” The necromancer cut himself off as Hisoka and Gon reached the bottom of the stairs. 

Hisoka had always pictured necromancers to be old and wizened, in long luxurious robes and leather shoes and hoods that covered their faces. 

This one was young, however, a little younger than Hisoka himself, with silky black hair that framed a narrow, pale face. He was handsome, in a very vague way, and he stood with impeccable posture. But what was most surprising was that he was in a big black hoodie and jeans and there were purple marker smudges on his hands. 

“This is Hisoka Morrow, and Gon,” Killua said, hands shoved in his pockets. Hisoka didn’t exactly see the family resemblance. Illumi was sleek, sinister androgyny, and Killua was fluffy boyishness, but they were both staring at each other with an intensity that was strikingly similar. 

“Why are they here?” Illumi asked Killua, ignoring Hisoka and Gon’s presence. 

“We brought a housewarming gift,” Hisoka offered, pulling a bouquet of midnight calla lilies, so dark of a red that they were nearly black. Illumi’s eyes lingered on them for a moment, wistfully. 

“Guests aren’t allowed here,” he said slowly, gaze snapping back to Killua. “Escort them out.” 

“Gon,” Hisoka said, “go with Killua upstairs, I’ll be there in a moment.” The two boys glanced at each other for a moment, and then they trotted up the stairs, footsteps overlapping. 

“I take it you have something planned for Halloween?” Hisoka asked, eyeing the corpses laid out on stainless steel tables. For all intents and purposes, it did look like a morgue, save for that strange, intoxicating smell. 

“Yes,” Illumi said warily. “Of course I do.” 

“It’s elaborate, then?” Hisoka pressed. Illumi shifted on his feet. 

“It’s involved.” 

“Could I help?” 

“I don’t think you can,” Illumi said coldly. 

“What are you gonna do?” A loud bang came from upstairs. Both Hisoka and Illumi glanced upwards, brows knitting with concern. 

“Your apprentice is interesting,” Illumi said. 

“He’s my protege. He has lots of potential.” 

“Potential,” Illumi echoed, looking, for the most part, skeptical. Hisoka felt his nose wrinkle. 

“Yes, once he matures, he’ll be an excellent magician.” 

“He seems simple.” Sparks burst out of Hisoka’s hands and his hair puffed up like an angry cat’s. For the first time in months, someone besides Gon got to witness a glimpse of Hisoka’s full power. The scent of blood and hard candy filled the room, cloying and metallic. Two slitted golden eyes went wide with rage. 

Illumi took a step back and as he did, two bodies lying on tables on either side of him sat upright and jerkily stood. The scent of menthol came again, in stronger waves, and Hisoka realized with a jolt that it was the smell of Illumi’s magic. Illumi watched Hisoka warily, his two re-animated bodies idling just a few feet from Hisoka, waiting for a command from their master. 

“Gon is very smart,” Hisoka said, finally, with a huff. The sparks fizzled and his hair fell back over his eyes. The smell of blood and candy faded. Illumi’s eyes were watering at the charge in the air, wetness welling up at the corners. He had preposterous-looking eyes, massive and pupilless, just pure black all the way through. 

Hisoka had met other necromancers before--two, and they were far older and less powerful--and neither of them had eyes like his. 

Illumi flicked his fingers and his bodies returned to their tables. 

“This Halloween, I will be busy. You and your  _ protege  _ better stay out of my way.” Hisoka felt his lips twitch. 

“We’ll be busy, too, actually.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes, Halloween plans.” Illumi stepped a little closer to Hisoka, arms folded over his chest. For a necromancer, he was decently strong-looking, not like the frail, sinister magicians who Hisoka had encountered before. Hisoka was still taller than him though, and bigger all around. 

“And what are they?” 

Hisoka had lied, he and Gon’s only Halloween plans were to go trick-or-treating. 

It came with the territory as a magician to wreak havoc on nights like Halloween, when auras were strong and energy was bountiful. Hisoka used to participate, used to terrorize whatever town he was in at that time, but it was losing its satisfaction. 

In fact, speaking to Illumi had been the first time he had felt so much as a spark of excitement in a long while. 

“They’re a secret,” Hisoka said, though in truth, he had already come up with a new plan of his own. 

“As long as you stay out of my way,” Illumi said darkly, “then I don’t care what you do.” 

“Sure thing.” 

“Collect your apprentice and leave please.” 

“Can I guess what your plan is?” 

“No.” 

“Are you going to resurrect the whole cemetery?" Hisoka felt a lick of delight as Illumi’s face fell and his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. 

_ “No.”  _

“It is! God, you’re so dumb. That’s  _ so _ predictable.”

“Get out.” The two bodies who had come alive before rose again, along with three others in a pile in the corner. They groaned and shuffled, pushing at each other until they were standing. Their eyes, and Illumi’s, all glowed purple. Pretty hot, if you asked Hisoka. 

“ _ Out,”  _ Illumi snarled, and his voice came out in multitudes from the bodies’ own mouths as well. That was hot, too. 

“I bet you’re going to set up amplifiers around the cemetery grounds,” Hisoka began, walking backwards as the bodies advanced, “and then you’re going steal into the cemetery for seven nights before Halloween, to begin the rituals, and then you’re--” Hisoka’s back hit the wall of the basement. 

He sidestepped as a body reached for him, the arm starting to rot off already. 

“This is pretty weak necromancy for you,” Hisoka said. “I bet you’re saving your power for Halloween.” 

_ “Leave,”  _ the closest corpse said in Illumi’s voice, Illumi, who was sitting on one of stainless steel tables, legs swinging, picking idly at his nails. 

He wasn’t even trying.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be going,” Hisoka said, shoving his hand in the pocket of his coat, hoping he had left a particularly inconvenient charm there. What he found instead was glitter, just plain glitter. He was such a stereotype sometimes. Still, it was something he could work with. 

Hisoka grabbed a generous fistful and then threw it up into the air. 

With the help of a spell, the glitter froze and spread in a blanket over the entire room. Illumi glanced up and his eyes widened. 

“Don’t--” 

“Don’t what?” Hisoka asked with a grin. 

“It’s going to get everywhere--” And the glitter fell like a sped-up snowfall, blanketing everything in sight, including Illumi. 

He glared at Hisoka through a veil of glittery black hair. His bodies stared stupidly at their newly-glitzy limbs. 

“Now, I’m really going,” Hisoka promised with a beaming smile, taking two stairs at a time. 

“Gon, let’s go!” Hisoka didn’t wait for Gon to turn around. He grabbed him by the arm , fluffed Killua’s hair with his free hand, and burst out of the house into the cool, watery air. 

Gon stumbled after Hisoka, eyes wide with confusion. 

“Did it go okay? You smell--it smelled like magic, lots of magic.” 

“ _ Gon!”  _ Hisoka half-shouted, half-wheezed. 

“Hisoka!” Gon replied, seemingly delighted by the change in energy. 

“We have new Hallow’s Eve plans.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> second chapter should be up very soon!
> 
> as always, thanks so much for reading! comments are VERY appreciated :) 
> 
> until the next update, peace!
> 
> my twitter is here https://twitter.com/illumitheillest


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